Chapter 9 (part one) - The Wedding (Even The Nile Ends)

Buffy roamed around the shop nervously. She knew if she wasn’t careful she’d end up breaking the most expensive object in the store, and she knew for a fact there was no way she could afford it. Buffy looked again at the list of gifts that no one had purchased yet. She then looked at the beautifully detailed candlesticks in front of her. Picking a stick from one of the sets up carefully, she put it down again quickly, grimacing at the price.

Leave it to Anya to choose the most expensive store in Sunnydale to register at, Buffy thought miserably as she moved onto the next set of candlesticks that Anya had written down as an option. Anya had ensured that not a single detail was ignored; her detailed list of gifts not only included type but the specific brands, models, and designs for every gift she wanted. Unfortunately for Buffy, everything on the list that Buffy deemed acceptable to give as a gift to one of her best friends on his wedding day was completely out of her price range.

Buffy didn’t even bother to study the next set of candlesticks before she glanced at the price tag. The price wasn’t as high as the previous set, but still way too high for her. As Buffy moved onto the final set Anya had included on her list, she sighed and closed her eyes before she looked at the price. Buffy stared at the price for a moment before realizing that they hadn’t just put an extra zero in the cents column. She hastily put the stick down, and looked down at her list to see what else was on the registry.

She had spent the past month at Double Meat saving up as much money as she possibly could for this gift. After Dawn, food, the mortgage and all the other bills Buffy hadn’t realized existed until a few months before, it didn’t leave her with much extra money. When she checked the balance in her account the day before, reality about her job finally sunk in: there was no way that she could even support herself on the money she was making. Since checking her balance, Buffy had actually sat down and looked at her options. She had been avoiding doing it for months, determined that she could handle things without changing anything about her and Dawn’s lives, but she was quickly realizing doing that just wasn’t an option. Buffy had a lot of serious decisions to make, and she wasn’t looking forward to choosing any of the options she had. But at this moment, she had to get over one hurdle: buying Xander and Anya the perfect gift with the small amount of money she had actually managed to save and the money Willow had been able to lend her. And she had to do it by the time the mall closed that evening - it was Tuesday night and the only night Buffy didn’t have to work. She either had to get a gift tonight or go to the wedding empty handed.

Maybe I’ll just ignore the registry… Buffy started to contemplate the idea when a sudden image of Anya in full vengeance mode flashed through her head. Buffy gulped and looked down at the registry. Maybe I’ll just go check out the picnic basket sets.

As Buffy headed towards picnic basket display, a flash of black and platinum caught her eye. She turned in the direction, groaning inwardly. She knew whom she was about to see and she really didn’t want to. Buffy had been proud of herself. In the last three days she had done an excellent job of avoiding everything that involved Spike. Well, if you didn’t count her routine patrols of his graveyard - Buffy had caught herself on route to his crypt about three times a night. She reasoned that it meant nothing though because she was sure that he had moved into another crypt, plus she had to patrol. And so what if she tended to listen intently whenever Anya or anyone else mentioned Arabella, she was just being a good Slayer. Plus, it wasn’t her fault that everything she did somehow reminded her of him. Buffy sighed, admitting to herself that there might be some part of her that actually missed the vampire. Of course, it was a minute, unhealthy part in need of some serious therapy.

Spike was holding a small object, studying it intently. Buffy headed towards him, immediately thinking that he planned to pocket whatever the small item was.

When Buffy was beside Spike, he finally looked up at her with a lazy expression.

“Hello, luv. Here to accuse me a stalking you again?”

Buffy had to hide the smile at the fact that he was using his usual sarcastic tone. Yup, I’m definitely going to have to factor therapy bills into my new budget. Not wanting things to become weird again, Buffy replied just how she always did, with bitchiness. “Shut it, Spike.” Spike smirked, raising his eyebrows in amusement, but didn’t say a word. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Hopefully I’ll be staking a bottle-blonde while squeezing in a bit of pre-nuptial gift shopping.”

“Well, there’s your answer for me as well. Now if you’ll excuse me, I wouldn’t mind getting back to it.” Spike went to walk past her, but was stopped by a firm grip on his shoulder.

“You really think I’m going to believe that?” Buffy drew her hand quickly away from Spike’s shoulder and placed it along with her other on her hips. It drove her mad that she couldn’t have any physical contact with the vampire in front of her without feeling a surge of electricity travel through her body. It was so hard to ignore the feelings he made her feel, however much she wanted to.

“All right, you caught me. I thought I’d make my new home a bit more sensitive, and I was just picking this up to put beside my bed,” Spike waved the object in his hand in front of Buffy’s face. Buffy snatched it from his hand and studied the small object intently. It was a small, porcelain flower. It fit perfectly into Buffy’s palm, and was actually rather pretty. Buffy turned the object over, examining it. She saw the price tag and smiled.

“Where’d you get this? Are there more?”

Spike looked at her confused. He then gestured over to the table they were standing nearby. Buffy was instantly leaning over top of it, studying the small sets of porcelain flowers. She then looked down at her list of eligible gifts, and swore quietly.

“What’s wrong pet?”

“Oh, Anya doesn’t want just one, she wants an entire set. A set is completely out of my price range, just like everything else in this stupid shop.” Buffy had become so distracted by the possible solution to her gift problem that she had forgotten to be annoyed with Spike.

“It is a rather posh place, isn’t it?” Spike was casually leaning beside her and gestured towards the list. Buffy handed it to him, too distracted by trying to find a cheap set to notice her own action. As he read the list, he snorted in disgust.

“Why don’t you give them one every year.”

“Huh?” It was now Buffy’s turn to look at him in confusion.

“Well, my mum - I mean, why don’t you give them one now and then give them one every year as an anniversary gift. You can probably find these things at loads of stores. Plus, the demon and whelp will love something saccharine like that.”

Buffy stared at Spike intently. She hated to admit it, but it was actually a good idea, and it wasn’t as if she had any other options. Buffy bit her lip in thought. She hated it when he was helpful in a way she couldn’t just ignore or deny. She was afraid that if she thanked him now it would all start again. Him giving her advice, her going to him for advice, and then, well, everything that followed. And what’s wrong with that? The small part of her brain that always seemed to betray her spoke up, but for once the rest of her brain paused and thought about the question. Images of her and Spike sitting on her back steps flashed through her mind, how he was the only one who she felt comfortable talking about things since she had come back. Then she saw flashes of the same scene, only these were before the final battle with Glory. I can’t think about that. Just thank him for the idea and leave.

Buffy continued to fiddle with the porcelain flower in her hand for a moment, trying to repress the feelings she knew were wrong. She took a deep breath and looked up at Spike, only to be met by striking blue eyes. “I think I might do that. Um,” Buffy wanted to say thank you but knew that he would reply with a cocky grin and an annoying remark. “It’s a good idea Spike.”

“No problem, pet. It would be worse to have to deal with Anya bitching for the next year that she didn’t like every one of her gifts.” Spike fiddled with the flower awkwardly in front of him, a tense silence was quickly growing between the two. He looked up and his mouth opened like he was about to say something when he was caught off.

“Will! There you are. I wanted to know what you think about these dish sets. You probably know Anyanka’s human tastes better than I do.” Arabella came up to the pair from behind Buffy. When she saw whom Spike was with, her face became completely expressionless. “Buffy.” She gave the Slayer a quick nod and grabbed Spike’s hand. “Hurry up, the store will be closing soon.” She dragged him away without glancing at Buffy again.

Buffy followed the pair for a moment before sadly turning around and examining the figurines again. She didn’t understand why she was so bothered by Arabella dragging Spike off. She knew it should be a relief, but for some reason it was anything but. She missed Spike looking over his shoulder to match her expression with his own.

*****

The next few days passed both quickly and slowly for Buffy. The wedding preparations were in full swing, and the stress wasn’t just limited to the bride and groom, although most of the stress the other Scoobies were feeling could be traced back to Xander, Anya, or both. Xander had panicked twice since his bachelor party on Wednesday night. The first time he had tried to convince Buffy to let him hide in her basement until Sunday, the second attempt was more desperate and involved him offering to pay Willow to make him invisible. After a long chat with Buffy and Willow, he seemed to be doing alright though, and at moments he actually seemed more excited about the wedding than Anya.

For Anya, her stress had nothing to do with actually marrying Xander and all to do with the process that doing so entailed. Somehow, Anya had convinced herself that all her perfectly plotted out plans for the reception would be completely ruined if she didn’t check over everything every other moment. The caterer had threatened to quit if she called one more time, and the florist refused to take her calls. Fortunately, the florist would talk to anyone else, so Buffy had taken on the role of flower-ambassador.

Of course, Dawn’s refusal to do anything helpful or even speak unless forced did not help matters. She had been diligently following the rules Buffy had set out for her with a scowl, but Buffy wondered if it was more of a punishment for her than for Dawn. Enforcing the punishment took a lot of time and energy, and all she got in return were glares, scowls, and an angry, bitter, teenage sister in return. Buffy had even come one number away from dialling the number to her father’s firm in Los Angeles to ask him if he would take Dawn for a while.

With everything that was going on, Buffy wondered how it was possible for her to have time to think. Somehow she did, and somehow all her thoughts were straying to Spike. She hadn’t seen him since Tuesday night and it was starting to drive her mad. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t get him off her mind. It’s not like she missed him or anything. All Buffy could see was Arabella’s hand holding onto his while she dragged him away. She recognized the gnawing feeling she felt at the thought, but didn’t like it’s implication. There was no way she was jealous of her. Spike did not inspire feelings of jealousy in her. He didn’t inspire anything but anger, disgust and revulsion. Keep telling yourself that honey. The evil voice in her brain was also becoming a problem too. It had become more and more vocal, and sometimes Buffy would catch the rest of her brain agreeing with its statements. Buffy just hoped that with time the thoughts and feelings would go away. She knew they had to be a side effect of everything that had gone on between them the past few months.

*****

Buffy walked down the aisle slowly and instep with the other bride’s maids. There were all wearing bright green dresses. Buffy was convinced it was a vengeance demon’s fault that Anya had chosen such horrendous dresses. She took her place beside Dawn and Tara, and looked across at Xander. He was a few shades too pale, and it looked as if Willow was prepared to tackle him if he tried to make another run for it. The wedding march began, and a large smile spread across Xander’s face. All the fear was instantly erase and Buffy knew he must have seen Anya.

Anya had the largest smile on her face as she walked down the aisle. When she finally met Xander in front of the minister, both were so lost in each other, he had to practically shake one of them to get the couple’s attention. As he began to speak, Buffy started to scan the assembled guests. She knew that she should be paying attention, but she was standing in at an angle that made it possible to look at everyone without having to turn her head, and it was impossible to not check to see if he was there.

And he was. Sitting in the fourth row, Buffy found the characteristic shock of blond hair. She looked at him more intently, and had to blink at what she saw. Spike was wearing a tie. Buffy’s mouth fell open at the sight of it. Spike looked up and caught her stair, instantly fidgeting with the black piece of cloth that matched the dress shirt he was wearing. Buffy stared at him a moment more before she saw who was sitting beside him, intently watching the ceremony that was going on. Of course. Buffy blinked her eyes again and tried to focus back on her two friends.

“I, Anya, promise to love you, to cherish you, and to honour you. I entrust you with my heart. Take care of my heart, won’t you please? Take care of it because, it’s all I have. And, if you let me, I’ll take care of your heart too.”

Buffy couldn’t help but think about Angel as Anya began her vows. He had been the only person she had ever been able to entrust her own heart to, and he had broken it into so many pieces when he became Angelus that she thought it would never heal. Of course, they had tried to put it back together again in her senior year, but the task turned out to be impossible. They could never fix the damage, and Angel had left. At the time, Buffy felt as if the pain of him leaving would never go away, but now she knew it really was for the best. Everything about their relationship had been so painful, so angst-ridden that the times when they smiled and laughed were rare and treasured. At the time, she had thought that passion and love were meant to be that way, but the older Buffy knew better. Your lover was meant to be someone you could turn to at the worst times and they would somehow find a way to get you to smile. Love wasn’t meant to make a situation worse, it was meant to make it better.

“I’ll protect it and tend to it. I pledge to be your friend, and your wife, and your confidant, and your lover.”

Buffy’s thoughts instantly went to Riley when she heard the word protect. He had wanted so much to protect her from her life, and a part of her had wanted him to. But it was an impossible task and the strain it caused their relationship ruined their relationship. Buffy so had wanted him to be the one. He was the normalcy that was what she had desired since she was called. The All-American Dream. Buffy had to suppress a chuckle as she thought about Sam and her ex. They were made for a Wheetabix box front. When she had first found out that he had moved on, it had hurt, a lot. But now that she looked back on it, it was more like getting the wind knocked out of her. It was bad for a moment, and then she was fine. When Buffy really thought about it, before she was called she had never wanted normal. Buffy hadn’t wanted a white picket fence and 2.5 kids. Of course, she hadn’t wanted demons, vampires, and a hellmouth, but she had never wanted normal. That dream had only appeared once her life wasn’t normal. That was her dream. To not go slay vampires every night or to deal with apocalypses on a seasonal basis. But it was only a dream. If Buffy was really honest with herself, she couldn’t imagine a life other than her own that would suit her. She didn’t want protection from it.

“I want to you marry you, Xander, because I love you and I’ll always love you. And before I knew you, I was like a completely different person. Not even a person really… And I had seen what love could do to people, and it was hurt and sadness. Alone was better. And then, suddenly, there was you, and… you knew me. You saw me. So I get it now. I finally get love, Xander. I really do. And for me, love’s you.”

Anya’s words hit Buffy like a freight train and she found herself staring into the deep blue eyes in the fourth row. Suddenly, Buffy was completely in touch with her feelings and all parts of her brain were working together and screaming one thing. Spike. Of course, that thought was followed by, Where the hell did that come from?, but Buffy instantly knew the answer. He had had such a significant role in the past four years of her life, and she had changed so much from the girl that had first met him outside the Bronze. Even then there had been something different between them. Always so much emotion in their encounters. His appearance was so sudden, so unexpected. Buffy had been taken aback by the way he acted, how he lived. And he did live. He lived his unlife to the fullest, and tried to enjoy every moment of it. Buffy hated to admit, but she had always been slightly jealous of how he could throw himself into the things he enjoyed, not worrying about the consequences or what others thought. But there was more.

That pretty much summed it up. It was what drove Buffy mad while drawing her in at the same time. He had always seen right through her defences and into her heart and mind. He saw her for everything that she was, and knew how to speak to every part to her. Buffy knew, instinctively, that if she let herself, she would be able to do the same with him.

“So, I, Anya, give you my heart.”

For the rest of the ceremony, Buffy just stared into Spike’s blue eyes, unable to take her gaze away from her vampire.

*****

Buffy took a long gulp from her wine glass. The reception had been going on for two hours, and she was miserable. She was standing alone, while everyone else seemed to be having an amazing time. Anya and Xander were oblivious to everyone but themselves. At the moment they were wrapped in each other’s arms on the dance floor, slowly circling even though it was a faster song. Tara and Willow were sequestered in one corner of the room, having what looked like an intense conversation, but it had to be a good intense, because both were stroking each other’s hair with one of their hands, the other hands entwined tightly. Buffy couldn’t help but smile at this, happy to see her friends together again.

Buffy scanned the dance floor and frowned at what she saw. Dawn had a huge grin on her face as she danced with a teenage boy she had met at the ceremony. Buffy would be all right with it if it wasn’t for the fact that the boy in question had horns protruding from his forehead. It didn’t help that Buffy was pretty much one hundred percent sure that the daiquiri Dawn was holding was not of the virgin variety. Buffy sighed, and continued to scan the room. She didn’t want to ruin the reception, so she was going to leave it be this once.

Buffy’s eyes fell upon Arabella. She was sitting with a group of female demons, laughing hysterically. Halfrek, the vengeance demon who had made her birthday party into a marathon sat beside her, but she was the only one not laughing. She was staring across the room, watching whatever was there intently. Buffy followed her gaze and cringed. Spike was sitting alone at a table with the large demon Willow had called D’Hoffryn. They had solemn expressions, and seemed to be having a very serious discussion.

Buffy’s curiosity was peaked, but was overridden by the wave of sadness she felt when she looked at Spike. He hadn’t even looked at her all evening. Buffy was convinced that she had ruined everything between them, and just when she was pretty sure she had finally realized exactly what she wanted. It had come as a shock to her, but the decision had made her feel balanced inside for the first time since she had come back. If she really thought about it, it was the first time since even before she came back. But now all she felt was confusion and sadness. He didn’t want her anymore. All the anger she had directed towards him, all the words and actions had finally built up for even too much for him to handle and he finally moved on.

As if on cue, Arabella appeared and dragged Spike onto the dance floor after saying a few words to D’Hoffryn. They were smiling and laughing as they danced around. Buffy couldn’t stand it. She wanted to be the one Spike was dancing and laughing with. She wanted to be the one in his arms. She had finally realized and accepted it, and it was too late. Buffy drained the last of her wine, and stormed out to the balcony. She was relieved to see it was empty, and went to lean over the railing.

Buffy couldn’t help but laugh at her question. When had anything ever not been so complicated? Buffy leaned against the railing and looked up at the stars. When she was little, she dreamed of getting lost in the stars and visiting every one. She’d spend hours staring up at them. Buffy couldn’t remember the last time she had looked up. The night had become her job. Darkness equalled slay. It had lost all beauty as soon as she had seen her first vampire. But for the moment, she was happy to forget everything that she knew and just enjoy the stars.

She heard a sigh behind her and spun around just in time to see Dawn trying to sneak back into the reception.

“Dawnie, wait!”

Dawn paused just before the double doors, and said, “Why should I?” before storming back into the reception.

She’s not going to make this easy. Buffy sighed and turned her back from the doors, and looked back up at the stars. She knew she should probably go after Dawn, but she didn’t have the energy. If Dawn didn’t want to try to repair their relationship, nothing Buffy said or did would have any affect. She heard someone come onto to the balcony, and spun around, hoping Dawn had come back to talk. The look of hope disappeared into a frown when she saw who it was.

“I really don’t like you.”

Spike walked away from Arabella, who was busy discussing the pros and cons of the different China patterns with a sales lady. When they had first come in, the woman had instantly been at their side, recognizing Arabella’s labels for what they met: money. Arabella had somehow convinced him to help her gift shop for Xander and Anya. She was convinced that he would know what was best for the pair. Spike couldn’t help but snicker at the thought. He had spent the last hour biting his tongue against suggesting things he knew they would hate. The only thing that stopped him from doing just that was the excited look in Arabella’s eyes. She was genuinely happy for Anya and wanted to see her have her perfect day. Spike hadn’t seen that expression in the eyes of any woman that he cared about in a long time, and he didn’t want to be the cause of Arabella losing that look. And so her he was, wandering through a shop he would normally never be caught dead in, wondering around, browsing.

As Spike walked past one of the displays, he paused. There was something about the little objects on it that caught his eye. Picking up one of the small porcelain flowers, he studied it carefully. At first he couldn’t recall the significance of the tiny object, but as he looked at the purple flower he held in his hand more closely, a single word popped into his head and he felt as if his entire body was flooded with emotion. Mum.

Suddenly a million memories hit Spike. He saw his mother smiling as she picked him up as a little boy. Telling him stories late at night. Scolding him for stealing a biscuit from the kitchen. He could remember every word she said when she sat him down the day he finished his studies at Cambridge and told him the list of ladies he should consider courting. The serious expression she wore when she discussed social matters had always made him smile, and he couldn’t help but wear a small smile as he thought about the endless number of discussions he had had with his mother on his return to London from university.

Spike closed his eyes and could see his mother hunched over one of the many small porcelain figurines she loved to paint, her spectacles resting delicately on her nose, the same expression she wore when discussing society on her face as she painted intricate patterns. One of her favourite objects to paint had been flowers. He opened his eyes and looked down at the purple petals. The flower in his palm was just like the last one he had seen her painting, the night of the party. The night he met Dru. Spike slammed the flower onto the table in front of him and ran his hands through his hair.

He remembered the last time he saw his mother like it was yesterday, even though it had been 122 years. Two weeks after he rose, Angelus had said he had wanted to do something special to welcome him into the family. They had been sticking to the east end of London, avoiding the upper classes even though it was the Season and Darla loved to attend the lavish parties held every evening. As Angelus guided his ‘family’ through the more lavish town homes familiar to Spike as a mortal, Darla on his arm, he wore a grin that Spike found a little too evil, even his demon shrinking away from the expression. Drusilla walked happily beside Spike, humming a song while playing with Miss Edith. Spike was in his own world, taking in the new noises and smells that he sensed in the familiar surroundings. He was in love with the power his demon gave him, and the difference it made in the world. He only realised how familiar the street they were on was when they stopped outside the home he had been raised in.

Spike felt sick at the memory. He had thought about that night a few times in the past century, and it had never made him feel like this. The feeling in the bottom of his stomach was foreign, thinking about his actions that night made him feel so wrong. Spike picked up another flower and tried to focus on his happier memories of his mother. He could see her laughing in the sunlight at their country manor, the sun reflecting off her hair. Thoughts of the sun instantly led to thoughts of Buffy. To him, Buffy was sunlight, his sunlight. He fiddled with the flower in his hand and studied it carefully, thinking about how much Buffy would like it.

Just as his thoughts of Buffy began to become more painful, Spike felt the tingling up his spine that only meant one thing: she was near. Focusing, he could hear her heartbeat and shallow breathing getting closer every second. When he was sure she was behind him, he looked up from the flower in his hand and calmly faced her, determined to keep a cool façade.

“Hello, luv. Here to accuse me a stalking you again?”

“Shut it, Spike.” Spike smirked, trying to hide the relief he felt at Buffy’s tone. He could deal with this Buffy right now. Instead of speaking, Spike raised his eyebrows, waiting for her usual accusation or insult. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” Spike couldn’t help but repeat the question. Falling into their old banter had a calming effect on Spike; it was something they did so rarely since they had started sleeping together.

“Hopefully I’ll be staking a bottle-blonde while squeezing in a bit of pre-nuptial gift shopping.”

“Well, there’s your answer for me as well. Now if you’ll excuse me, I wouldn’t mind getting back to it.” Spike went to walk past her, but was stopped by a firm grip on his shoulder.

“You really think I’m going to believe that?” As soon as Spike felt Buffy’s hand on his shoulder, it was as if every part of his body was on fire. Buffy withdrew her hand quickly, but the feel of her touch lingered. Spike had to battle with his body to not reach out and grab her. His whole body screamed for more contact. Spike tried to ignore his instincts and continue with the conversation. He was annoyed with her assumption that he was in the shop to pocket something, although the idea of doing just that was now playing across his mind.

“All right, you caught me. I thought I’d make my new home a bit more sensitive, and I was just picking this up to put beside my bed,” Spike waved the object in his hand in front of Buffy’s face. Buffy snatched it from his hand and studied the small object intently. Part of him wanted to hide the piece of his past from her, but most of him wanted to see what her reaction would be. The smile that covered her face as she examined the small object made Spike draw in a silent breath, even though he didn’t need to breath. She really is the sunlight, was one of the many thoughts that crossed his mind as he watched her.

“Where’d you get this? Are there more?”

Spike looked at her confused. He soon realized that her smile wasn’t as much out of appreciation of the object as it was for its gift possibilities. He quickly gestured to the table beside them and watched as Buffy examined the small flowers. When he saw her look at the list and then swear under her breath, the look of confusion he previously wore covered his face again.

“What’s wrong pet?”

“Oh, Anya doesn’t want just one, she wants an entire set. A set is completely out of my price range, just like everything else in this stupid shop.”

“It is a rather posh place, isn’t it?” Spike was casually leaning beside her and gestured towards the list. He was surprised when Buffy handed it to him without protest. As he read the list, he couldn’t help but let out a snort. Sometimes he really wondered if Anya had been made human or if she had just lost her powers. He couldn’t comprehend how anyone could be as selfish and ignorant to the world people lived in.

For the second time that evening, Spike was shocked at his own thoughts. When did I start giving a toss about others? I’m turning into the bloody poof. He then looked up at Buffy and didn’t care if he was. The stressed and tired look on her face made all his thoughts turn to how he could help her. He thought for a moment, before finally giving a suggestion his mother would have given. “Why don’t you give them one every year.”

“Huh?” Buffy looked at him in confusion and Spike had to hold back a rolling of his eyes. He loved Buffy more than anything, but sometimes he really wished she were a bit quicker on the uptake.

“Well, my mum - I mean, why don’t you give them one now and then give them one every year as an anniversary gift. You can probably find these things at loads of stores. Plus, the demon and whelp will love something as saccharine as that.”

Spike waited as she examined the gift, then examined him. It looked she was having an internal battle with herself over the suggestion. He knew that it was because the idea was coming from him and it hurt to think that things were so bad between them that she couldn’t even take his advice on something as superficial as a wedding gift. It hurt more to know that he completely deserved this reaction. He knew that he had a tendency to use anything and everything to hold onto what little he had of Buffy, but he couldn’t help it. The idea of losing the few pieces he had of her always sent him into a blind panic. Actually having lost her had not made matters any better.

“I think I might do that. Um, it’s a good idea Spike.” Spike was taken aback by the intensity of her gaze on him. Her eyes were a mixture of relief, gratefulness, fear, and that distinctive Slayer-quality that no one else’s eyes seemed to ever possess.

“No problem, pet. It would be worse to have to deal with Anya bitching for the next year that she didn’t like every one of her gifts.” Spike fiddled with the purple flower that he had initially picked up. He looked up at Buffy and was about to suggest she give it to Xander and Anya as the first one when he heard a familiar voice.

“Will! There you are. I wanted to know what you think about these dish sets. You probably know Anyanka’s human tastes better than I do.” Arabella came up to the pair from behind Buffy. When she saw whom Spike was with, her face became completely expressionless. “Buffy.” She gave the Slayer a quick nod and grabbed Spike’s hand. “Hurry up, the store will be closing soon.” She dragged him away without glancing at Buffy again.

As Arabella dragged Spike towards the other side of the store he couldn’t help but look over his shoulder for one last look at his Slayer. She was sorting through the many flowers, back turned to him. Arabella’s asking him about what China pattern he thought Anya would prefer brought him out of his trance and back to reality. He realized he still had the purple flower in his hand, and he slipped it into one of the deep pockets of his duster. Spike grunted out a reply, and pointed at one of the dish sets. He chose one that he knew Anya would love, but the whelp would hate. He couldn’t help himself. After making the purchase, the pair strolled out of the mall and started walking towards Spike’s old crypt.

When they arrived, Arabella looked around in disgust. “So you’re just going to stay here? I remember seeing images of it before, it really did look like a flat before. How on earth could you go back to sleeping on a concrete slab?”

“I’m a vampire lamb, don’t need comfort.” Spike sat down on said concrete slab and lit a cigarette.

“Rot.” Spike couldn’t help at smile at her tone. Sometimes he forgot how bossy she could be. It was different than Buffy’s bossiness though - it was upper class English bossiness where an order was said as if they were a fact that had always been known by all involved. Things were never a request with Arabella, but an expectation you had no choice but to comply to.

“Rot, lamb?” Of course, Spike could always have fun trying not to comply.

Arabella just raised her eyebrows and continued. “Vampires like comfort. And I know from previous experience that you are not the exception.” Spike opened his mouth to retort but before he could, she continued. “And before you try to object, let me remind you - I was in your head. I saw your crypt before it was destroyed and it resembled a flat more than a crypt. Don’t bother trying to argue William.”

“So what, you want me to move into a flat?”

“It’s a start. Or maybe you could purchase a nice little house.”

“You’re forgetting that need money for that.”

Arabella furrowed her eyebrows and turned to face Spike, a look of confusion covering her face. “What are you going on about? You have money, quite a bit of it actually. Remember all those lovely bank accounts I’ve helped you set up over the past century or so? It’s impossible that you’ve spent all that money.”

Spike just laughed bitterly and lit another cigarette. He stood up and walked over to his fridge, taking out a jar of pig’s blood. He took a sip from the jar and began speaking in the proper accent he had abandoned over a century ago, “Your forgetting, Lady Montgomery, that until recently I was involved with a certain vampiress who was not quite right in the head. And, upon termination of said relationship, my fondness for said vampiress was still very much intact. As a show of this fondness, I signed all accounts over to the vampiress to ensure her well-being, and ensuring myself to at least one decade of living in squander.” Saying that, he walked over to the television and picked up the bottle of Jack Daniels sitting beside it. He poured a healthy amount into the blood and walked over to Arabella, who now sat on the coffin he had recently been using as his bed, and gave her the remainder of the bottle.

“You really have gotten thick, haven’t you?” Spike replied with a salute of his jar, before downing the contents in one long chug.

*****

Over the next few days, Spike avoided the Scoobies at all costs. He knew that Anya would ensure that everything anyone did would involve the upcoming wedding, and he wanted nothing to do with it. The concept of someone actually willingly tying herself to the whelp permanently sent shivers down his spine, even if it was someone like Anya. Her lack of tact astounded him, and the only thing that convinced him to go to the wedding was to see what statements would pop out of her mouth during the ceremony.

Arabella had been spending more and more time with him and they had quickly fallen back into the pattern they had when she had been recording Angelus and the subsequent friendship that had led to. Somehow, she had even convinced him to move into a proper home, although money was still an issue. When he raised the subject to Ari again, she had smiled softly and said to be patient. The response had just confused and irritated him, and he decided there was no point in trying to get her to explain herself.

The only difficulty the two friends found was when the subject of a certain Slayer was raised. Arabella was constantly on his case about how he shouldn’t waste his time, but Spike couldn’t help but miss her. Even when he had been exiled from her home and had been threatened with staking if he bothered her, he had seen her more than at the present time. Since their meeting at the gift shop, Spike had made a conscious effort to avoid her. Although every part of his being told him to seek her out, he didn’t allow himself to. He sensed her at least three times outside his crypt every evening, but he never went after her. He knew that if anything were to ever happen between them again, she would have to initiate it. She would have to come to him. He wouldn’t go crawling to her. Of all things Arabella had said about the relationship, the only thing he agreed with was that if anything was to ever to work out between them, he would need to feel proud of himself, and not allow himself to bend to the Slayer’s every demand. Of course, Arabella had said the relationship would never work because he was Buffy’s whipping boy and that he needed to regain his personal pride, but Spike felt that his artistic interpretation was permitted. So his new rule was no crawling. Unfortunately, every night following his rule was becoming more and more difficult. He was beginning to think he’d have more success at quitting smoking.

*****

Spike looked up with a start when the music began. He had been half asleep waiting for the wedding to begin. He looked up to the front and smirked, seeing a very pale Xander looking apprehensively down the aisle. Suddenly he felt all his senses tingle, and turned around in anticipation of seeing his Slayer walking down the aisle. He had to suppress a full out laugh when he saw what she and the other female Scoobies were wearing. He had thought the green dress Red had on had just been a reappearance of the bad taste she had when he first met her, but seeing Buffy in the same green atrocity made his realize it was probably Anya’s way of ensuring that no one looked better than her at her wedding.

As Buffy got closer, he sucked in unneeded air. Even wearing something as ugly as what she was in, he still found her more beautiful than anyone or anything he had seen before. Her large smile as Anya began down the aisle made him feel like his heart would explode. He hadn’t seen her look happy in so long, and it was nice to finally see that light in her eyes again.

As the minister began to speak, Spike couldn’t help but zone out and his thoughts drift to his present discomfort. Arabella had threatened castration via holy water if he didn’t wear the suit she had bought him. All she had said in response to his whining once she had gotten him in the outfit was that he should be relieved that she had chosen a black shirt and tie to go along with the dark grey suit. As he began to fidget, he felt eyes on him and looked up to see Buffy staring at him with a look of shock. He instantly felt uncomfortable in the unfamiliar material and his hand went up to play with the piece of cloth around his neck. Just as he was about to loosen the knot, there was a hard jab in his side. He looked over to the redhead beside him to see her raising his eyebrows and tilting her head slightly to the front. Rolling his eyes, he looked forward to see Anya beginning her vows.

“I, Anya, promise to love you, to cherish you, and to honour you. I entrust you with my heart. Take care of my heart, won’t you please? Take care of it because, it’s all I have. And, if you let me, I’ll take care of your heart too. I’ll protect it and tend to it. I pledge to be your friend, and your wife, and your confidant, and your lover.”

Spike’s eyes drifted over to look at Buffy. She seemed to be deep in thought about something as she listened to Anya’s words. He was sure she was thinking about his grandsire. The only thing that bothered him more than her insistence that she felt nothing for him was her obsession with Angel. It frustrated him so much that she had put Angel on such a high pedestal. He wanted nothing more than to tell her what Dru had told him when she had visited and the news that had been coming out of LA about the miracle child and who its mother was. He knew it would destroy Buffy though, so he bit his tongue whenever he got the urge to tell just how important he felt a soul was.

“I want to you marry you, Xander, because I love you and I’ll always love you. And before I knew you, I was like a completely different person. Not even a person really… And I had seen what love could do to people, and it was hurt and sadness. Alone was better. And then, suddenly, there was you, and… you knew me. You saw me. So I get it now. I finally get love, Xander. I really do. And for me, love’s you.”

As Anya said the words, Spike was suddenly struck by the beautiful green of Buffy’s eyes staring into his own. She had a look on her face that he had never seen, and for the first time he had absolutely no idea what she was thinking. As he listened to what Anya was saying, he felt as if he was hearing his dream. To hear Buffy say those words to him is all he had wanted for well over a year.

“So, I, Anya, give you my heart.”

As they continued to stare into one another’s eyes, the thought that maybe she was finally getting it crossed his mind, but he told himself not to dare get his hopes up. There were things he had to do at this reception, and until they were done there was no point in even trying to speak to her.

*****

Spike sat listening solemnly to the words D’Hoffryn spoke. He had decided to call in a few favours that the powerful demon owed him, but he was getting nowhere.

“Spike, I’m sorry, but I cannot do what you ask. It’s not in my power to do something like that.”

“Oh, come on Hof. We both know it’s more than in your power. And you bloody well owe me, a lot. I’m the sole reason you have one of your favourite demons.”

“I’m very aware of that fact, but I can’t do this.” Spike opened his mouth to retort, but D’Hoffryn motioned with his hand for him to be silent. He knew that it was not a smart move to disrespect D’Hoffryn, no matter what you had done for him or what he owed you. So Spike fought his natural instinct to make a sarcastic reply, and waited patiently for the demon to continue. After a few moments of thought, D’Hoffryn looked up and continued. “Now, I should probably not say this, but I feel you should know something. It’s not that I’m not capable of doing what you ask, but I cannot do what you ask.”

“Making no sense here mate.”

“Listen to me carefully William. Things are in play, big things. You’re involved, everything is involved. What you ask would alter events gravely, and I will not be at fault for doing that.”

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?” D’Hoffryn’s words had sent shivers down his spine. The serious expression on his face and the tone of his voice were not unfamiliar to Spike, but there was something in his eyes that told him this was big. Maybe even bigger than Glory. He needed to find out what D’Hoffryn knew.

“All I can tell you is that this goes straight to the top, the only reason I have any clue to what’s happening is the fact that I would be here and the Powers had an inkling that you might approach me.”

“Hof, tell me what you know. You at least owe me that.”

Just as D’Hoffryn was about to reply, Arabella appeared. D’Hoffryn smiled at the higher being and nodded his head.

“Hello Hoffie. How are you?”

“Quite well. Is Henry here?”

“No, he’s actually going to be in LA next week. The shit’s hit the fan on one of his projects. I’ll pass on a message to contact you, if you’d like. I’m sure he’d love to see you.”

“That would be wonderful.” He gave her another nod, and she smiled largely in return. Moving over to Spike, she grabbed his hand and dragged him out of his chair.

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to borrow Mr. Bloody here for a dance or two.” Before D’Hoffryn could respond, Arabella was dragging the vampire onto the dance floor, shouting a thanks over her shoulder.

The song being played by the dance was an old jazz song, and the couple instantly fell into the older style of dancing they both knew well. They weren’t swing dancing, but there was a healthy amount of spins and twirls thrown into the dance as they laughed and smiled. Out of the corner of his eye, Spike could see Buffy on the side of the dance floor watching them. He wanted nothing more than to go over to her, but he wasn’t near done the things he had planned on doing that evening. Just as he saw her storm out of the hall, the music changed to a slow waltz. Arabella was instantly in his arms, an evil smile on her face.

“I do believe your brooding, Mr. Bloody.”

Spike snarled in response, before he let a grin cover his face, “Just thinking hard lamb. So how are the girls?”

“Quite well, except Anya invited that horrible vengeance demon Halfrek. I don’t know what it is about her, but there’s something off there. Do you know her? She’s been staring at you all night.”

“Might have met her some time or another. Can’t really say.”

“Ah well, I suppose it really isn’t all that important.”

Spike barely responded. He had noticed Dawn storming into the hall from one of the large balconies lining the outside. She had gone over to a young demon, and was now laughing at something he said. Spike noticed the boy pass her a drink and let out a low growl, causing Arabella to stop dancing.

“William, what’s wrong?”

“I think I need to go talk to the Bit.” He had completely let go of Ari and was stalking towards the area where Dawn and the demon were situated.

“That’s fine. I need to speak to someone myself.” As Arabella said the words to her now missing dance partner, she scanned the room. A small smile came across her face, and she picked up two glasses of wine as she headed in the opposite direction Spike was walking in.

Spike reached Dawn, just as she was about to head onto the dance floor. He grabbed her arm, and ignored the small warning his chip gave him as he dragged her towards the centre of the floor. Before she could protest, he was leading her in a waltz, ensuring that she could not escape from his grasp.

“I need to talk to you, Nibblet, and I doubt your going to like what I have to say.”

*****

Chapter 10 - Over A Glass

“I really don’t like you.” As she said the words, Arabella stepped farther onto the balcony. She had two glasses of wine in her hands - one red, one white. She placed the glass of white on the railing beside Buffy. She took a sip of the red, and placed it beside the white. “Well aren’t you going to at least thank me for getting you a glass?”

Buffy could only stare at the keeper. She was completely dumbfounded. The first statement had taken her aback; the second had just confused her. As she looked at the expectant face of the redhead, she felt the anger start to boil. Arabella was staring at her like she had not just said anything out of the ordinary. She stood in a relaxed position, doing nothing but look at Buffy. Thoughts of her and Spike dancing, the talk she had overheard, and their initial greeting at her house kept flashing through Buffy’s mind. The silent relationship the two had developed was anything but calm, and Arabella’s initial greeting had confirmed it.

“I really don’t like you, have a glass of wine? It’s probably laced with poison.” Buffy crossed her arms and stepped away from the railing, getting ready for battle. In response, Arabella rolled her eyes.

“If I wanted to kill you, I’d make sure I enjoyed it. I’d ensure it was painful, violent, and slow. I wouldn’t be boring and simply poison you.” She took another sip of her wine, and turned to look out at the evening’s view. Buffy’s mouthed dropped open at the blunt statement. She could hear no sarcasm in the Keeper’s voice as she said the statement, and the look in her eyes made Buffy believe what she said. Arabella just sipped her wine and looked annoyed at Buffy’s sudden muteness. “It’s your turn to speak, by the way. Shouldn’t you have some witty comeback or angry retort?” Arabella raised her eyebrows, amusement tugging at her lips as Buffy continued to just open and close her mouth, still unable to process the other woman’s statements. “Oh, honestly Buffy, stop looking so shocked. And close your mouth, you look like a fish.”

Buffy automatically shut her mouth, and with the simple action, blind rage took over. Buffy was instantly in Arabella’s face, hand raised to hit. Buffy was moving at full Slayer speed, but just before her fist made contact with Arabella’s face, a blur Buffy could barely see stopped the fist from finishing on its path. Buffy winced as Arabella’s hand wrapped itself more tightly around her own hand. She tried to push her fist forward, and then pull it back, but her hand didn’t even move a millimetre. It was as if it had been encased in concrete.

“People often forget that I’m not human.”

“I’m sure they never forget that you’re a bitch.” Buffy tried in vane to release her hand from the Keeper’s grip, only to the grip she had on the fist tighten.

“Stop struggling, I’ll let go of your hand in a moment. I just want to make something clear first, and you’re the kind of person who has to see something to believe it. I am not human. I have a pack mentality that is quite a bit more prominent than you’d initially think. I will do anything to protect my pack, and do not look kindly on those who hurt a member of my pack. I know you’ve read of Angelus’s activities, but you have no real concept of torture. I’ve lived a lot longer than him, and seen a lot more than he will ever see. And I’ve got a photographic memory. I know how to make it hurt so much you can’t pass out from the pain. It would do you well to remember that.”

“Aren’t you meant to be working for the Powers That Be or something? I doubt threatening the Slayer would be on their list of things good little higher beings do.”

“Everything is relative.” Arabella finally let go of Buffy’s hand and turned out to look at the nighttime view again. Buffy took a moment to open and close her fist, hiding the relief that her hand was out of the death-grip it had been in. She wanted nothing more than to either throw the Keeper off the balcony, or in the least storm away, but the statement had caught her attention.

“Care to enlighten me on what that means?”

“I have spent the last 750 odd years with demons. Do you think they would tolerate me if I had some holier-than-thou attitude? . I’m not some angelic little warrior that tries to protect everything and everyone from the evils of the world. If I did that, I’d never get anything done and I’d be miserable.” Buffy noted the personal jab, but let the Keeper continue. “You should know I get annoyed, as Will puts it, quite often. I hope you understand this: if you think beating some low-rank hell god makes you able to take me on, I’d think again. I am immortal. Not in the sense of immortal but with this or that weakness like demons. You cut me, it disappears instantly. You snap my neck, it’s like an annoying crick. Flames do not hurt me, nor does slicing off my head, although both are a nuisance. I don’t have a weakness. The only ones that can hurt or control me are the Powers, and they have yet to intervene in my actions. I could literally break you in half in five seconds flat, and if I intended to, I wouldn’t waste time with a big speech before I killed you. You should take that as a good sign right now.”

Buffy was again in shock at the bluntness with which Arabella spoke. This time around, she was quicker to respond. “Why the hell are you telling me all this?”

“William is a member of my family. If you ever hurt him again, I will hurt you and yours tenfold.”

“You have no idea what you are talking about.” Buffy stormed towards the doors leading to the inside, but was stopped by a blur of red hair and designer clothing before she could take three steps.

“I know exactly what I am talking about, Slayer. If you think I will stand by and watch anyone treat my best friend in the deplorable manner that you have been, you are sorely mistaken. The fact that you could treat another person the way you have been treating Will is beyond comprehension.”

Buffy took a step back, putting much needed space between her and Arabella. Her words had felt like a slap in the face. A large part of herself was screaming to agree with the redhead, and show the shame she felt for the past few months. The anger and defensiveness she felt at the hostility coming from Arabella won out though, and Buffy defended herself before she even realized what she was saying. “Spike’s not a person, he’s a demon. An evil, soulless, thing. If it wasn’t for the chip in his head, he’d be out there killing innocent people and enjoying every minute of it.” Even as Buffy said the words, she realized that she was resorting to her old excuses, her old justifications at the twisted relationship she had forced herself to have with Spike. Fifteen minutes before this moment, she was upset because she knew her actions had finally made her lose the vampire, now she was repeating the excuses she had finally admitted to herself that she was hiding behind. The only problem was, Buffy was letting her pride get the best of her and she could do nothing but jut her chin out defiantly.

To her shock, all Arabella did was laugh bitterly. She walked over the balcony rail and picked up the red wine glass, saluted Buffy, and threw back the remaining red liquid. “You really are a peace of work, aren’t you?”

Buffy rolled her eyes, and started towards the exit again, but she promptly halted when she heard Arabella whisper.

“Do you know what the opposite of evil is?”

“What?”

“I asked if you know what the opposite of evil is.”

Buffy rolled her eyes and answered. “Good.”

“Wrong.” Somehow the simple answer had gotten Buffy’s attention. She turned around and placed her hand on her hips, waiting for Arabella to explain herself. “Good is the opposite of bad, correct?” Buffy nodded in irritation. “And you have to agree that evil and bad are not the same.”

“What’s your point?” Buffy didn’t know where Arabella was going with this line of thought, but she wanted her to get there quickly. Every moment she spent with the redhead made her hate her more and more, and she needed to go kill something desperately.

“Be patient. I want you to think about the concept of evil. Or, the concept of evil that you have.” Pausing for a moment, she waited until she was convinced that Buffy had actually done what she asked. “Now think of a word that describes the exact opposite of that.”

Buffy opened her mouth to respond, but found that no words could come out. Arabella walked over to the balcony and picked up the glass of white wine still sitting there. She went over to Buffy, and handed her the glass.

“I’m not saying that evil doesn’t exist, you just have never experienced real evil or anything close to it.”

“But - ”

Arabella motioned to her to let her finish by placing a finger on her own lips, a faint smile hinting behind it. “Please let me finish. I know it’s hard to believe that things you have seen and fought are not evil. Don’t get me wrong, they were all bad, but none are even close to evil.” Arabella paused and a dark look crossed over her face and she seemed to be lost in thought for a moment. The look disappeared as quickly as it had come, being replaced by a serious expression as she looked into Buffy’s eyes. “Real evil, it can’t be fought. It has a way of tainting everything it touches with its darkness. Not even the most pure things can escape it. Real evil has the power to consume everything and everyone, filling them with itself. It’s like a virus or a plague, and even the most moral people are defenceless against it.”

Buffy sat down on a nearby bench and took a long drink from the glass in her hand. Arabella waited a moment before she joined her. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I need you to understand something. Demons are bad, yes. But they’re not evil. Most aren’t good, but they are nothing compared to the real darkness in the world. The watcher’s council teaches you that all vampires and demons are inherently evil because it makes your job simpler. They teach you that humans have souls, and demons don’t, again to make your job simpler.”

“So what, I shouldn’t slay vampires anymore?”

“That’s definitely not what I’m trying to say. What I hope you’ll understand is that things are not simply black and white. The universe is a lot more complicated than that.”

Buffy could see what she was saying, but still didn’t understand her point. The expression she wore as she said the words had affected her more than the actual words, and Buffy desperately wanted to know what Arabella meant. She knew whatever it was probably had to do with Spike, and thought it would probably be easier if she just brought him into the conversation.

“I get what you’re trying to tell me. Spike’s not evil, he’s just very, very bad. The definition of a word doesn’t change the things he’s done.”

“And what has he done?”

“What?” Buffy could not believe Arabella was asking that question. She knew that the woman was friends with him, but she couldn’t possibly have blinders on to all the things he had done.

“What has he done to you specifically? Yes, he’s tried to kill you. But, you have tried to kill him as well. And yes, he’s killed two Slayers. The same argument holds. I’m not going to deny that William has killed a countless number of people, but can you name one time you know of where he has drawn it out or hurt people strictly for pleasure he derives from their pain?”

Buffy stuck her chin out proudly, and looked Arabella in the eyes. “He tortured Angel to the point before he was dust three years ago.”

Arabella cocked her head to the side and thought about what Buffy said. “I’ll give you that one, but if you had any concept of the things Angelus has done to him over the years, you would probably have been beside him handing him the holy water.”

“Angel isn’t Angelus.”

“I hate to burst your bubble, but that’s probably the biggest load of shit I’ve ever heard. He was cursed with guilt, a conscience so great he can’t step on a bug without brooding over it for a moment. Everyone’s just assumed that it was a human soul and the Powers decided it would be easier not to dissuade everyone from that belief. Besides, a human soul does not necessarily give you humanity or morals.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Buffy stood up and started pacing. She looked over at Arabella, and hated what she saw. Somehow, Buffy knew Arabella was telling the truth. It was the way she had told her, with compassion in her eyes. The realization that what she said was true made Buffy feel sick to her stomach. “Why are you telling me this?” The question was asked with a quivering voice, and Buffy had tears glistening in her eyes.

“I’m telling you this because you need to know it. There is so much you don’t know, and it’s hindering you. Your belief that William is just a thing is only one of the ways you are hindered.”

“Why would that hinder me?”

Arabella got up and walked over to where Buffy was standing, taking her hands in her own. “Because William is so much more than some evil thing. And as much as I dislike it, he loves you more than anything in this world, and all he wants is for you to accept his love. There is no way that love like his can be a negative force unless you make it that way.”

“I know.” Buffy said it at in an almost inaudible whisper, but Arabella still picked up on it. She let go of Buffy’s hands and started to walk towards the doors leading to the inside.

“I don’t believe you do, Buffy. You don’t even let yourself see him.”

Buffy let Arabella exit, as she thought about what the Keeper had just said. The words took a moment to sink in before she understood their full meaning. She had never let Spike show her how he felt. Whenever he had tried to be soft or loving during their ‘sessions,’ she had responded by with violence or by running away. She had never allowed him to express how he felt about her, even if he had said the words over and over again. The realizations made Buffy’s knees give out, and she sat down blindly on the bench behind her, as reached for the glass of wine, draining its contents. The thought that he had finally given up on her filled her thoughts and it made her heart pound with the fear that she had finally lost him.

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